Healing Infinity
by Dharakfire
Summary: 17/17. Ficlets and drabbles focusing on two angels. Pit thanks Dark Pit as the war ends and peace settles. COMPLETE.
1. Hate

Pit wasn't usually one to be jealous of somebody else.

He was jealous of birds for their flight, their flight that _he_ could not have. The jealously that sparks in his chest, like the poison-bite of the snake, fades just as quick as it comes and he covers it with a smile. A smile that everyone knows so well.

Yet this was different. He was jealous of him. Of Dark Pit, of his counterpart. Ever since discovering that the Underworld monsters, the monsters he used to fight without second thoughts, were made of souls of humans, he found it _hard_. Hard to move his fingers, his hands and deliver the blows to his enemies because these were souls of people transmuted into monsters.

He struggled and his mind would scream at him, his heart clenching in bitter disgust at what he was told to do. "We can do nothing about it," Palutena would tell him, "At least when you strike them down, their misery will end and they will find peace."

Even she cannot convince him, because Pit firmly believes that he's more a monster than any other he's fought before.

* * *

He doesn't like it. Pit doesn't like how Dark Pit effortlessly cuts down the monsters with such ease, such simplicity that he wish he could obtain back. It's all a flash of teal feathers, a screech and then the whistle of wind that Dark Pit completes the slaughter. It's all _too_ fluid, all _too_ fast how he moves, with great speed, dexterity and no hesitation in his movements. Just clean cuts of his weapon and he's done.

"It's nothing to me." He says, and Pit feels as though Dark Pit has no heart.

And he hates, _hates_ and **_hates _**him, feels the rage blooming in his chest like some wicked flower.

* * *

When Dark Pit looks at Pit, sees those blue-jay eyes of his exploding with wrath, he laughs and Pit could not help be confused and feel that anger come back to him once more.

He demands an answer, and Dark Pit looks sardonically at him, with that cocky smirky playing on his lips and he restrains the need to lunge at him.

Dark Pit stares at him with those vermilion eyes, the shadows reflected in them dancing like fire. "How can you expect to save others if you cannot even strike down your enemies?"

And he leaves then with those words for Pit to ponder.

The thing that scares him most is that he's right.

* * *

_A/N: I'm going to start a series of small ficlets based on just Kid Icarus, focusing a lot on the characters and exploring in-depth about them since there isn't enough of those fics, aha. I'm willing to accept prompts, if anyone reads this, via my tumblr which is linked on my profile._


	2. Guilt

The first thought that came to mind was one word, one single word, so simplistic in it's design.

_Why?_

It rebounded in Dark Pit's mind like some echo in a cave as he leans over Pit, who was simply broken bones and torn skin beneath him. And it hits him hard, this feeling he's never felt before, harder than any blows he had taken before, any fall, any injury. And it hurt.

It sank deeper than any fangs, any claws nor weapons that has been dug into his flesh. It burned and with it, left a searing pain that sorched his very skin and poisoned the blood that ran in his veins.

His eyes, his once fiery vermilion eyes reduced to a small spark, glazed over like fog touching water's reflection, moving to gaze over on _his_ wings. Pit's wings. Barely beyond recognizable, all he sees are bones, blood and torn feathers hanging off what used to be wings. The same wings of stars that saved him from the devil clutches of the Chaos Kin. The same wings that he wished were his own, so pure unlike his bloodied hands.

His breath catches in his throat and he holds the urge to scream in front of Palutena and Viridi in his anger, in his unbearable guilt.

The two goddesses only watch, Palutena with baited breath and no words coming from Viridi's end of the telepathic link. And the words could only fall between them all, simple two words that the silence etches into the brown stone underneath them. The wind sings like a lonely song traversing, the hellish skies around them swirling, even too, in regret.

His fingers move, his eyes absent-minded as he rests a hand on Pit's shoulders, cold and crimson curling itself around him. Palutena watches with forsaken eyes, Viridi silenced and yet gazing on from her perch with pitiful eyes.

_I'm sorry, _is what they all fail to say.

Even after this there is a brief vision, a glimpse of what the skin, bones, blood and feathers used to be. Joy and hope and happiness, all in one bundle, now ripped apart and held only by the thinnest pieces of thread.

And he runs for it, spreads his black-bird wings and is off towards what he could not save.

He tries and he wishes.


	3. Disgust

As Pit runs through the streets with the steps of an ambitious dog, he remembers.

He sees gold, red, blue and green at the back of his eyes, he sees stardust in the smoke-ridden day. He remembers vivid flashes of color that paint across his vision with wonderful colors, visions of dreams. Dreams when his soul was gently slumbering in the ring.

The very same ring that brought troubles in his thoughts.

He dreams of galaxies and suns and skies, dreams of Palutena, fair in her beauty and her kindness. He dreams of Dark Pit with his conceited smirk and Viridi with her sharp, lashing voice. He hears them laughing. He dreams of happiness, security. That everything was fine and alright. He knows it'll come one day.

But sometimes his dreams were colored dark with visions of screams and fire, fire that licked at whatever it touched with a hunger that could not be pleased. He saw and he felt fear, felt his legs tremble as blood exploded across his perspective. He felt weak and disgusted, only for the darkness to be ripped apart as the sun's rays shying away the darkness of the cold night.

He knows now what his dreams meant as his grasp is transferred over to Magnus. He demanded answers, Magnus happily supplying them with his gruff voice, like sharp corners of sandpaper. And it's familiar, brings back memories of them fighting Gaol, he with light-feathered steps and Magnus with his powerful swings and thundering heart.

It was joy he felt first. Now disgust replaces his fleeting heart of happiness, disgust and bitter rage that makes him _quake_ and _tremble_, even if this was not his rightful body. Magnus feels his repulsion and he understands, says nothing and lets silence descend as Pit easily maneuvered his flesh with graying strings.

How could _he_ have slaughtered all these humans? These people who he _fought_ to protect in the years before? His heart clenches and he hisses in rage at himself as his gaze flies over to meet what has become of his body.

_Redeeming my wrongs_, he thinks with a mind of soiled purity, _is the only thing I can offer as apologies to those I've slaughtered._

He understands those dreams of red and black, dreams of darkness and evil and torture.

Even as he obtains his body back, leaves Magnus with a passing goodbye and obtains Viridi's treasured help, he feels dirty.

Because as he looks at his hands he sees the blood of innocents.

* * *

A/N: So far everything is pretty much angst and I don't really regret that. But the next few days I'll make up for it with some cute fluff and humor, okay?

Oh, and please don't forget to review! I want to know what you guys think and everything, and if there is anything I'm doing wrong.


	4. Care

As they dart down tracks of silver, purple and blue laid before them, Pit feels _sympathy_, a feeling that lingers in his chest like the evening butterflies of summer, yet it's somewhat lighter, somewhat softer.

His gaze darts over to the Chariot Master and he sees bones, bones that have withered and aged, but he also sees _fire_. The fire he sees are so pure, unlike those he's seen- its _passionate_ and he finds it _amazing_, finds himself gazing in awe.

The next time he saw that fire, he saw death as he kneeled down near to the Chariot Master, the flames he saw that were engorged in the heat of battle were flickering softly, gently, and then... They vanished and with it, words of relief.

Stardust rose from the ground and he follows its trail with his mirror-blue eyes. He whispers a soft farewell, before he stands up and turns around to see Phos and Lux before him, with their heads bowed towards where the stardust has rose and faded like all dreams during one's waking.

And he _understands_, understands their longing sorrow. He reaches out with his skinny hands and rests them upon the snouts of the animals, and he sees galaxies embedded into their pure sky-blue pelt, like the weaves of a dream catcher, star-like and he knows, he _knows_ and he **_knows_**.

"Don't worry," He whispers with a voice of crystalline gentleness, "I won't let your master's death be in vain." And he sees their eyes, the eyes of Phos and Lux gazing at him with their milky golden orbs, feels them pressing their snouts to his palms in signal of trust.

He knows they were telling him that he was their new master now, he sees it in their movements, their light and gentle tips of their heads and the look in their captivating eyes.

He smiles as the two unicorns with hair of linen and amethyst take a step back, sees a light in their eyes and he almost thinks they were _smiling_.

* * *

_A/N: I wrote this on the iPad since my brother was using the laptop. So there may be some mistakes, but other than that, enjoy!_


	5. After

After the war between the gods, reconstructing with the humans began. Pit watched on from the heavens, from Palutena's temple with his blue-jay eyes in curiosity.

Never had he gotten much of a chance to observe humans- though it's not like he had the time to, since he's spent much of his time battling, earning new scars across his pale skin and wrestling with his own emotions throughout the war that had wrecked the land.

Through the years though, he spent time chatting with Palutena, Viridi, or the small, infrequent visits from Dark Pit. Most often though, he asked Palutena to tell him tales of humans and their own _human_ heroes, and she would smile, a smile that a parent would give to their child, and she tell him what she knew. And he'd listen by her side as he always would.

Eventually when the festival of Apokries came around, he had Palutena send him down- Not without dragging along Dark Pit, of course. Viridi stated she was "busy" (he didn't believe that) and Plautena was just as busy as she usually was. Costumes, food, celebration! It's what Pit loved to do- feeling the warmth that seeped into his chest was always rewarding in its own way.

Pit spent his time playing with the children or fooling around with the adults, Dark Pit simply either watching or forced into the games by his lighter half, as usual. And its all fun and its all games, joking and laughing. Sometimes, though, Pit would look over to his counterpart and see the slightest of smiles curved up on Dark Pit's lips.

_Happiness_, he muses to himself, _is truly something infectious. _

And he rushes in to join, hoping this happiness would last.

* * *

A/N: Apokries is a festival held in Greece- it's kinda like Halloween. So consider this a Halloween special guys c:


	6. Home

When Pit opens his eyes, he does not remember. He sees Dark Pit looming above him and its all a blur, everything far too fast, far too disorientating. It's too much, _too much- _

Then it comes to him like a tornado whipping out of the heavens like some unholy bullet. He sits up, shocked and Dark Pit stands back with a calm and collected look upon his face. Pit knows he's not calm though- he sees how he's _shaking_ and hears his soft, but heavy breathing.

Dark Pit moves away soon enough though, with that quick flash of teal feathers almost like raven-black and he hurtles himself off the edge. He calls to Viridi with a cold snap of his voice and she snarls back at him before retrieving him with a flash of light.

He hears it, _suddenly_, **_abruptly_**. Her voice. Her _voice_, it was her and he feels relief flood him like drinking cool oasis water in hot summer days and he knows its her. He knows its her, her voice like the bells ringing in the blow of the wind, like some calm gentle breeze.

Pit gets up, slowly, shaking, yet managing to remain standing. "P-Palutena..." He gasps, like a wordless whisper. "I've- I've missed you so much."

And Palutena smiles, he knows she's smiling with her own relief after her near death experience. "I missed you too," she responds with her golden-bell voice.

"Welcome back." She whispers softly and Pit feels himself enveloped with a golden light and he _knows_ he's coming home. And he knows his home is broken, dull, gray, but he also knows that they could fix this damage, try and heal the scars on the world beneath.

After three years... Everything is still the same...


	7. Realization

It's all jabs, all taunts at his loyalty to Palutena and Pit _hates_ that. As he stands his ground on the circular floating slabs of rock beneath his feet, he watches as Dark Pit easily moves about in the air, wings sparkling purple and blue.

He _hates_ how he could fly with no limitations- But what he hates even _more_ is how Dark Pit dodges his blows from one to the other with a grace that even rivaled the grace of birds in their flight, how he questions his undying faith to Palutena. His clutch tightens on his bow, the same bow Palutena gave him that was littered with gold and blue across it's shimmering surface.

"Do you hate me?" Dark Pit asks suddenly in the midst of battle, the grin gone from his lips and Pit freezes.

He trembles as his grip falters on his hold of an arrow he notched, pointed straight at where Dark Pit hovered in the air with black-raven wings and eyes of fury fire. "I-" His voice _shakes_ and he doesn't know why, "I'm not sure." It's weak, _pathetic_ and he knows that Dark Pit picks up on that.

Dark Pit laughs, the smirk coming back upon his features as inky hair framed his face and few strands falling over his forehead. "Of course you do- Why _did_ I even bother asking? After all... I'm nothing but a copy to you, am I?"

And Pit wonders about this, before snarling and gritting his teeth, releasing the arrow and blue light arched across the gap between he and Dark Pit. Only for him to dodge again, like always.

* * *

Pit is shocked, _surprised_ as suddenly, a streak of gold broke against the disoriented sky and slams into the hole the Chaos Kin ripped open in the heavens. The air seemed to _shatter_ as the Lightning Chariot, carried by the steeds entrusted to him, Phos and Lux, they broke the atmosphere where it was closing. It seemed as if reality itself was _broken_ upon the impact, leaving a gaping hole in the sky that revealed swirling brown winds ahead.

And he sees Dark Pit fall out of the chariot and lands on the ground not too far from where he stood with wide blue-jay eyes, in a bundle of skin and raven feathers. Phos and Lux turns away from the hole in the air with a loud whinny and Pit sees wounds etched into their beautiful blue pelts and he feels the stinging of those wounds too for a brief second, like the scorpion's lashing tail, before it was long forgotten.

Phosphora appears and lets them know that she was going to fetch the twin horses, before chasing after the chariot with lightning and thunder exploding behind her in a flurry of blue. And Pit sits there against the dull stone for a moment, before rushing over to where Dark Pit was recovering from his fall with few scrapes and blood on his pale skin.

"Why did you do that?" He asks, bewildered and voice wispy like smoke from a blown out candle, gazing at his counterpart who smirks at him, wiping some blood off his cheek.

"Because I was wrong," Is all he says and Pit realizes.


	8. Panic

Panic fills his veins like _poison_ as he circles the air in the Lightning Chariot, hands clutched tightly on the reins of Phos and Lux.

Dark Pit does not know why he feels so _shaken_, as though something is tearing his threads of existence apart. Hades is snarling at him and trying to reach him with large outstretched hands, like the reaper's scythe. He fails, though, since the Lightning Chariot was known for it's speed that rivaled that of Phosphora and of their much smaller size than the God of Death. Streaks of light trail behind him as his eyes, his flickering _fire_ eyes, darts over the body of Hades, seeking where Pit might have been stuck.

Ever since Pit had been swallowed by Hades, Palutena called to him, to Pit's other counterpart, to seek _his_ help- He was surprised when she asked, only to be filled with a sensation of electricity striking through his nerves. It's how he ended up here, narrowly avoiding and dancing between the grip of Hades like a sea-snake twirling through the water and seaweed with supreme ease, over and _over_ and **_over_**.

He curses to himself- He does not know where Pit may be within the Death God's body, whether he was stuck in the stomach or the lungs of Hades. He could only guess and even then that was not _enough_. All he knew was that he felt sharp pain digging into his skin like sharp rocks underneath bare feet, that somewhere his lighter half was attacking with the bow of gold talons and blue river-water.

It was like he truly was looking at the death itself. He knew if Hades caught him or managed to blast him out of the air with his death magic, he would not be able to survive- Not that it mattered to Pit anyways since when he dies nothing will happen to him. His breath came heavy like damp fog clouding a forest and sweat grazed his ivory-colored skin, his thin inky-black strands of hair clumping to his forehead.

And that's when he sees it. A small burst of light erupts forth from Hades' chest like a phoenix rising from it's ashes in an inferno of red flame and he cries out in pain like a corner animal's snarl, and he knew that was Pit, it could't have been something else. He wheels the twin unicorns to his left sharply and with a great burst of speed and the lashing of reins, the Lightning Chariot barrels forward, turning into it's own arrow. He easily broke through his chest, like shattered glass, sees Pit as he passes with confusion painted into his eyes and lips.

He leans to the side, grabs him swiftly as the snake's strike and tugs him into the chariot. It was fast, quick, as Dark Pit rounds up with Pit in the chariot forcing answers from his lips. A sense of respite floods through him as he twirls away from Hades' hunched figure and light surrounds them both.

At least the idiot was still alive. Dirty, but still _alive_ nonetheless.

* * *

A/N: Guys I'm going to have my schedule be taken up by this stupid research paper on Finland's education system- I'll still try to update daily as I always do. Also, please do leave reviews and send prompts to my tumblr (listed in bio) because I really need them. It can be angsty, cute, and all that jazz, but nothing... Mature. I also request that no pairings be suggested since I don't really ship anyone in this fandom anymore. It can be friendship though, and you can interpret it however you like.


	9. Arrow

When Pit is gearing up, he feels anticipation _grip_ him with nails of steel. He was going to face Hades. He was going to finish this long strife and end this war that has caused death to drag its ugly claws across the land. He was going to avenge those whose eyes closed one last time and whose breath faded to none. In a way, he experienced death once and did not plan to feel it drag him into its tempting darkness again.

He was not just fighting for Palutena and the humans. He was fighting for Viridi, Dark Pit, all the souls that dream in the abyss of death, all those that had suffered, _both_ humans and animals alike. He fought for _all_ of them, his eyes shining with visions of the future when the world rebuilds and all the dead settle into their cycle of life and death, rising like _fire_.

When he pushes out of those doors and fights his way to Hades' realm and he seeks the God of Death through all of his minions, subjects, he feels all his _hatred_ bubbling to the surface of his skin and he bites his lips. And then it starts, and everything explodes into long-contained fury.

He was going to do the impossible. He was going to _slay a god._

Even when he's lost all his weapons and he's barely managing to fly with Viridi's help, his hands holding onto the canon in which Palutena forced her powers into, he still hopes, still sees the future where the war was no more and where crimson did not paint the grass, the walls, the skins of many.

_No more_, he thinks, screaming a final battle cry as he unleashes the waves of power from the detached and beat canon. Like all those arrows before, bright as a _beacon_ and as powerful as his _will_, he makes contact with his target and then he knows its all over. Everything was done. His tale has come to an end.

He has never felt more _free_ than he was now.

* * *

A/N: I might shorten this series to twenty chapters or just end it all. I'm running out of ideas and I'm just not inspired to complete thirty drabbles.

Sorry guys.


	10. Fire

It was well known between the both of them that they were the opposites of the same personality. Two halves that were torn from the original source, one with wings of _stars_ and _humanity_, the other with wings of _moon_ _shadows_ and _battle_.

Dark Pit knows this all too well and he _hates_ it, _hates_ how he's regarded as some clone. He's thinking this to himself as he walks along, the skies dark with rain. Pit was gone, and he knows why. He always had _some_ sense of it, due to their connection. Sealed in some ring somewhere, that's all he knew.

He feels it, too. Feels pain _arch_ through his being more than once every day, like arrows easily slicing open his skin, showing the crimson blood that lurked underneath the pale skin. He was too weak to fight due to the pain coming in waves. Not until Pit somehow found a way to return to his body. He hates this connection that _only_ affected him and not Pit.

So after the war passes, the pain fades and Hades long lost in the ocean wherever a god's soul may travel to, Dark Pit finds himself roaming the land in its _savage_ beauty and its _deathly_ nature. What else was he going to do now, anyways, since his creation was to best Pit? So he ignores it, spends his time in seclusion with a grim frown drawn on his face and memories haunting his dragon fire eyes.

There was _always_ something, a tether of splattered scarlet roses and hauntingly beautiful blue carnations, that had them, in a way, _drawn_ to one another. Dark Pit only regarded Pit as the 'better' half of him. Pit, on the other hand, thought differently when they finally met again and shared thoughts.

"We're not better than each other," Pit would hum in his galaxy-embedded voice, "We're one of the same and that's the important part right?"

Dark Pit raises his eyes and there's a sparkle of the reminiscent fire shining in vermilion. "Perhaps." He says simply, letting it hang off there and drift into the silence as an unspoken _thank_ _you_.

* * *

A/N: This was from Sakura Hyuga's prompt of something brotherly. I made it kinda angsty, but yeah. I would like to thank my three reviewers so far, since they'd bothered to leave one on this series. I appreciate it, really.


	11. Scream

He doesn't know what happened. All he knew was that he was being pulled backwards by something that his eyes, his blue-golden sky eyes, could not see. He feels pain dig into his skin, like a thousand needles that prickle his skin yet, despite the blood that covered his skin in scarlet rivers, there was no other wound that was ripped open from his skin. Just pain, sharp pain that _burned_ like phoenix fire.

Pit opens his mouth and he _screams_. It's a rush of air from his lungs and his vision explodes with colors of red, black. He struggles, only to have his arm twisted and a bolt of pain shoot up from said limb, but he does not stop his jerky movements. Being free from this wicked being that constrained him was all that mattered now. He sought relinquish from these needles.

When his eyes clear and he sees the sky of swirling evil, swirling darkness, he sees a flash of light, teal feathers coated in a amethyst glow. He sees Dark Pit's hand outstretched and the look of horror in his eyes of deep water lava. He's vaguely aware of his name being called, _over_ and _over_ in a mantra and then his vision finally fades before he could even register fingertips ghosting over his own.

When he awakes he's on the floor, head full of crazed butterflies and eyes rolling. He sees Dark Pit above him, vision rippling like water and Dark Pit's mouth opens, he says something, something that does not reach his ears. And Pit murmurs something that was too soft for himself to hear, escapes his lips like the smoke that rises from candle light before he submerged himself in the darkness liquid once more.

* * *

Pit sees red when he forced his way out of Hades, bursting through his chest like a holy arrow of gold and blue. He remembers Phosphora and her look of worry that was written upon her face like print on a scroll, her lightning blue streak as she rode underneath his falling form and he dropped into the Lightning Chariot with the sound Phos and Lux panting from exertion.

Because when he looks over his shoulders he hears somebody _screaming_, Palutena and Viridi's voices ringing in his head with alarm. The instant he sees it, he _freezes_ and he _chokes_. Hades has crimson painted over his hand. Phosphora seemed shaken with the way electricity was exerted from her body. She was not injured though. Hades had not even reached for Pit when he escaped with weapon in hand and a god's blood coating the white of his body. But Hades had blood of someone on his large fingertips. He sees teal feathers in the air, drifting down. And he understands immediately.

He calls out to the angel he could not reach. He calls out to Dark Pit and there is no response.

* * *

A/N: Prompt from 23blenders. If Dark Pit saved Pit from the Chaos Kin instead. For the last part, I hope you realize it was his own arrogance that caused that to happen. Sad, but just a what if.


	12. Flowers

Sometimes Dark Pit visits Pit after the battle, though said visits were often rare.

It's not like Pit minded- He visited Dark Pit himself when he felt like it. Whenever they'd meet eyes again, eyes of _wind_ and _fire_, it's often usually training between the two angels of one entity. Its blade against blade, sparks _flying_ and movements surprisingly _quick_, parring each others blows with a twirl or a spin, like the golden wind _blowing_ against the ashes that fire _spits_. It was only until the air faded from their lungs that they would stop, skin marred with bruises and muscles aching.

Or they would just chat with voices of relaxation, taking trips to the human world that inhabited the beautiful land underneath the gold of the heavens. Despite Dark Pit's constant scowl and his insulting words whenever he did something ridiculous, Pit did not mind much, used to his cold behavior. And even then Pit did not care if Dark Pit would hiss at him or land the sharp blows to the back of his skull sometimes (that did leave him his fair share of bumps), since they were friends, in a strange way.

After all, they were two halves of one, separate but all the same in a way. Sometimes they'd find themselves strolling through fields of the life and peace, Pit often hopping ahead and singing little tunes to himself with that bright smile ever so apparent on his face like the sun would appear after every drop of rain had fallen. Dark Pit had taken to watching Pit with the usual callous look drawn into his eyes and lips.

Pit plucks several flowers from the fields that cloaked them in a sense of reverie, spinning around with blood-red carnations in hand, laughing. "Look!" He exclaims exuberantly. "They're almost as red as your eyes- if not more lively than yours, Pittoo."

The instant his nickname was mentioned Dark Pit seethed with a flare of anger, like that of a volcano screaming to the skies, but otherwise retained the look of indifference. "Don't call me that." He responds sharply. "Besides, it's not as if a couple of measly flowers could be compared to _me_. Especially with how fragile they can be."

Pit giggles like a young girl on her birthday, spinning back around again to march forward like a toy soldier. "Maybe," He says in a sing-song voice like that of the blue jay's song, "But if flowers are able to grow even in the most darkest places, they must be stronger than us!"

Dark Pit rolls his eyes of scarlet gold, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You're too pure for your own good, idiot." Is all he says as Pit tosses the flowers into the air, his laughter like the wind chimes songs of gentle days.

Wind and fire- That's what they were. The wind that _feeds_ the fire.

* * *

A/N: I combined two prompts from 23blenders and Sakura Hyuga- What does Dark Pit and Pit do when Dark Pit visits and laughter. Thanks for the prompts and reviews uvu


	13. Thought

In his mind, memories dance about like the howling of snow flakes, _beautiful_ and _dangerous_ all the same.

And whenever it happens, Pit cannot sleep, lying on his bed with his eyes opened to reveal blue-cyan water drops that is brighter than the surrounding midnight blackness. He loses himself to his own thoughts of star-twined leaves and spider-spun thread. His golden-glassed eyes are open and he finds himself slipping free from the sheets of his bed, the cloth wrinkling with a soft breathless whisper.

In the blueness of this darkness he easily moves about, his white wings a stark comparison to the night. Even the pale gold marble that was being devoured by fangs of shadows. He moves about like a _wraith_ of _distant wind_, steps light in tune and heavy in emotion that curls itself around his nerves. And he thinks about whatever his mind decides to flit to, this night a night to reflect on his own personality before his eyes like glossy mirrors.

He sits down and gazes at stars, like pale ivory, thoughts running through his head that bring with it a _pounding_ scream. When it comes to Pit, he knows that he's all euphoria and smiles. He also knows that he's a deliverer of justice, with deep anger and hatred burying itself in the cracks of his bones like nasty worms. He fears he'll break someday, like fragile porcelain, from all the different sides that rebound throughout his being of existence and life.

Pit takes in a deep breath and releases it, the air misting in front of his lips like a ghost materializing from stagnant air. Its there for a moment with its translucent glory and fades, and he watches the moon gently giving its light to the world as a gift, and the stars supplying the moon with their companionship. Then he swears to himself that he would _not_ let anything break his will of gushing wind, places his hand over his heart and repeats the words to himself.

"I will not break, I will not break..." He chants in a low _wispy_ voice with eyes of _fogged_ water.

And he does this constantly, whether it'd be in the middle of a battle or simple nights like these. He lets _go_ of his joy, lets his fingers _slip_ and releases himself to the _cruel_ and _breathtaking_ world before him. Pit, as clueless as he could ever be with idiotic grins, looked to the celestial sun and moon above him and he sends a wish ahead with baited breath that he would _never_ let anything, anyone, pick at the cracks in his bones to tear apart his silk threads of being.

If need to be, he will piece himself back up over and over again. If even Palutena's gaze were to ever fade from his back (in which he forbade with horror), then he shall look to what he could never reach with his own weak wings of broken simplicity.

To the suns and moons and stars that offer him splinters of relief in this wicked reality.

* * *

A/N: Today when I saw three new reviews, I was so happy. I literally cannot express my joy and my gratitude. People take time to read _my _work and it's such a huge deal. I cannot thank you enough- Especially knowing that my writing helped _inspire _people. Gahh- I just feel so happy and excited and I don't know how to put it into words.

But thank you so much for reading my work, I seriously appreciate it.


	14. Gone

When she's gone, Pit knows it's all over. The wind in his eyes stop blowing and the will that burned in his chest, once with great passion, dwindled to a weakened flame that only flickered and never screamed.

Because as he stands there, _immobilized_ with Dark Pit along his side, Pit watches with terror carved onto his face like old stone paintings. He sees the Chaos Kin in its _ugly_ appearance, menacing and horrifying as it easily devours a soul. _Palutena's soul_. Her soul of green light and hope. The moment it disappeared, rage took a hold of his body and he lunges forward with a scream at the back of his throat and weapon poised.

But such memories were only remnants of the past that he once knew and lived in with eyes that shined brighter than a thousand suns. Before Pit could even piece himself back together, like mending the starry threads of the universe, Hades took his chance. With Palutena gone and Pit lost in his own thoughts, he easily succeeded in taking over the world. Even when Pit finally came to side with Viridi and Dark Pit, Viridi's army and the combined might of the angels were _not enough_. The Three Sacred Treasures, shattered like glass underneath the fingertips of Hades, the god who _conquered_ the human realm.

And even as Viridi sends Pit and Dark Pit to seek Dyntos, Hades follows like wolves chasing down its prey with hunger in crazed amber eyes. He interferes. He reaches the God of Forge first and in the chaos of his army invading and Pit's arrival with his twin, he manages to destroy the Great Sacred Treasure just as well. And Pit watches as shards of the great weapon were scattered around their feet. From that moment on, Pit _finally_ gives up and _cuts_ his thread of hope.

It fades from his eyes and his movements become _slow_, _jerky_ and _inexperienced_. Because he knows he's got nothing left to fight for. Dyntos could not rebuild his weapons. Viridi's army could not stand against Hades' army. He and Dark Pit were only two angels that could only do so much. And Palutena... It begins to seep into him, like how bones were absorbed by the soil that had seen _too_ much blood. And he allows it to take _over_ him, allows the feeling of hopelessness to _spread_ throughout his nerves and reign within his mind.

The humans were ruled by Hades in his unbridled power. Underworld monsters screamed with delight as they siege through towns with thoughts of only murdering, the tools of the people no match against the might of the undead. Pit did not know what happened to Magnus, nor all of the others that he encountered on his journey. They were simply _gone_ and he tells himself that they were _dead_, dead as Palutena and dead as the Chaos Kin he murdered in his pure, raw rage.

He resides with Virdi and Dark Pit, all in a futile attempt to take back what has already been taken. It's only them, now, left to fight. It's _not enough_, _not enough_ and _never_ will be.

Viridi would gaze on with disdain in her milky brown- almost amber- eyes. _How could you even call yourself an angel_, She would growl, _if you allowed yourself to be bested so easily? You and I know that Palutena would've never wanted that. Whether if she is gone or not._

Dark Pit would hiss at Pit, glare at him with eyes that burned with anger (but never hatred, he noticed). _I can't believe I'm connected to a guy like you_, He says with rage drawn in his voice, w_ho grieves all day. I once looked up to you, you know. Because you were hope's embodiment, but I can see I was wrong in my choice now._

Pit knows they are right, he knows he is hearing _nothing_ but _truth_ spill from their lips like waterfalls. But he says nothing and stares at them with eyes that were blank and dull and everything that was _not_ hope, not light, not happiness, not nothing. Just daunting emptiness haunted his eyes that had become stormy and grey as the skies weep over the slaughter and the fires that kissed death.

And he feels their words like weapons held to his throat where his life breathed into the surface. He feels the blade and _everything_, the sharpness and the slight, burning pain that tainted his senses.

Sometimes his fingers trace over the scars he's gotten in his fights against the Underworld monsters and he _remembers_ Palutena, her grace and her laugh and her intelligence, her teasing tone and her amazing summer-green eyes. She's _gone_, though, and he walks down the path of darkness to where he could never return from his unthinkable grief and sorrow. He knows he's _pathetic_ but he's okay with that.

Because with Palutena's passing, Pit feels as if his soul was ripped to pieces a long time ago.

* * *

A/N: Nothing says angst like in the middle of the night, no? Anyways I was in a writing mood and with a prompt of 23blenders... I couldn't resist. "What if Palutena did disappear," was basically the prompt and maybe somewhat of a sequel to the last chapter, _Thought._ It's longer, too, but chocked full of angst. Just what I like.


	15. Smile

Most of the time, Dark Pit found Pit to be _extremely_ annoying.

What not with those idiotic jokes that he always spews from his mouth and how _utterly_ dense he could be, it irritated Dark Pit greatly like some pesky fly. Somehow though, his counterpart with the wings of pale-gold and sunlit-glass, brought only the slightest up-turn of his lips. It's like some paradox that only existed between _them_, like joy-wind and rage-fire.

And, if Dark Pit were to ever be more honest to himself than what he convinced himself of now, he knows that he's grateful for all those things that Pit embodied. Even through the times that he would help Pit with a flash of dark amethyst and lava-fire eyes, he knows that he's not just doing it because his life was connected with china-silk to Pit's own. He cared deeply for his other half in a way that made him sick (in a good way).

When he sits down to think about it, he finds himself thinking constantly to find what it is in Pit that made him _feel_ the way that he did- and he notices _hope_, a glimmer of _compassion_ that shined in his deep-colored soul. They were the different halves of the same being, one who sought freedom and the other who sought power. As much as Dark Pit knows that and as much as he hates the string that ties his life in the hands of someone else rather than his own, he does not mind.

Because he knows that Pit can handle himself. He was all the things that Dark Pit never could be- joy, happiness, purity and smiles, all smiles and laughter, a pleasant wind that blew during summer days so unlike the fires that challenged death. Perhaps it's why Dark Pit finds himself looking up to Pit with snake-blood eyes, since he knows that his other half was more than able to do the impossible.

With the slaying of a god, of Hades, he knows that his thoughts were not wrong about the angel with the wings that spread more _vast_ than the heavens and the skies.

* * *

(Pit would sometimes catch the glances Dark Pit spares him after the battle- _brief_ and all _too_ fleeting like a dove's flight- and he sees the _understanding_ held in the eyes of scarlet suns.)

* * *

A/N: Prompt from Sakura Hyuga again. "Smile" was basically it and I made up for the last chapter with some fluff.


	16. Peace

Pit wishes he could be a child again.

Although the memories are foggy for him, _dull_ and _faded_ like cloudy water, he can vaguely remember something. He remembers when he was more happy than he was now- When he was not fighting in the war that cursed the lives of innocents forged into monsters that he had to slay with his own hand. He remembers how warm it was- How soft and gentle and kind, like the mother wolf, vicious and savage in hindsight and yet so loving towards her newborn pups with a warm tongue and promise.

He remembers faces of those he had seen years ago. He does not recognize them, their faces like blurred objects in a mirror, hidden in fog and dewdrops in shadows. But he also sees Palutena, his goddess, his savior, his _friend_ since he could remember since then. He remembers when he was young with soft downy wings like the swan's chicks, how utterly shy and embarrassed he was with eyes of pure sapphire blue like untainted droplets of rain. He even remembers how he hides behind her whenever he did something ridiculous or was feeling particularly embarrassed that day.

But sometimes when he's struggling, trying to bear past the pain that plagued him and blood- his scarlet blood- covers his skin and he feels like he's ready to cave in and give up from trying to fight against gods. But he doesn't, because he reminds himself of the days when there was only peace and light and happiness, happiness and only that is all that mattered. He thinks f the stars, the sun and the moon in their eternal balance, and he feels an urge that _wells_ up like a battle cry and he knows he will do it.

Because he wants to bring back the time of peace, where imagination _only_ flitted in the minds of children and _only_ the simplest of problems troubled adults, never thoughts of survival and death and longing. He bears his weapon in hand, glittering gold and cerulean and beautiful like a candle's flame. He thinks back to the past, remembers the blurred faces he once so held dearly and the smile of gentle, Lady Palutena.

And he thinks he's ready again, as he wards off the pain from his mind and lets only passion and visions of harmony bloom like _flowers_.


	17. Thanks

Pit has always wanted to thank Dark Pit.

It's not only because he's saved his life multiple times (although he was grateful for that too). Pit sees Dark Pit as a friend. A comrade. Someone else he can be close to as he was with his goddess of summer green eyes, Palutena.

Dark Pit was different from Pit in several ways, and he was not shy of that. With wings of teal bird feathers, eyes of cold vermilion fire and a personality of cockiness and arrogance, there does not seem to be much a resemblance between the two. But Pit knows that was not true. They were of one and the same- Pit could be cold at times and Dark Pit warm at other times.

Pit sees past that, though, with his eyes of blue sunlit glass. Even after his attempt to rid Dark Pit awhile back, he could still see that the angel, the angel with wings of midnight arrows, he cares. It wasn't just because Dark Pit was tied to Pit in their lives (Pit has told Dark Pit before that he swore to never die so his counterpart didn't have to).

But he has always found it different, in a way, when he wants to say thank you to Dark Pit. It was just two words- It should be simple, but it wasn't and Pit does not know why. He struggles to say it, the words catch in his throat like spider string and fly wings.

Sometimes after the war had ended though and he was bruised and bloodied about (though the happiness overtook the pain), he finally uttered the words to Dark Pit. His companion. His friend. It was when the sun was waving a goodbye, promising a gentle night and they flew together, Palutena's and Viridi's echoing in their minds that Pit decided to speak up.

"Thank you," He says, softly as the flutter of a crane's wings, "For everything that you've done so far."

Dark Pit smiles just the slightest, a small curve of the lips. "There is no need to thank me." Is all he has to say.

And then, in the brief moment where the world is pulled between day and night, sun and moon, there is a glimpse of the future- A kind and prospering future, where all that exists is the thread of peace, and only peace.

In the glow of the fading sun and the rising moon, Pit understands.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry guys, I'm just not motivated to finish this series. I decided to end this here, but thank you so much to those who read this series. I really appreciate it.


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